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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785999">The Quarry</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/niiiiix/pseuds/niiiiix'>niiiiix</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chaotic Dialogue, Eddie Kaspbrak - Freeform, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, God Spites Richie Tozier, HJFKSDHLFSAL, Kid/Teen Reddie, M/M, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier - Freeform, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Swearing, The Quarry (IT), and i've never had alcohol, but i've only really kissed like one person, eddie is great at it obviously, i write them kissing (a lot), i've written about them drinking before, id say its a oneshot but its really freaking long, idk they’re fourteen, is really ironic, it's funny, its like an eightshot, just because, like hes really bad at it, richie can’t skip rocks sorry i dont make the rules, u H u h, uhhh the boys are in lOVE, which</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:42:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/niiiiix/pseuds/niiiiix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>eddie and richie at the quarry,, hmm wonder whats gonna happen there</p><p>if this seems familiar to you, it probably is!</p><p>this is a complete rewrite of a oneshot i wrote a few months ago just because i have improved a lot since then. the original is on my ‘reddie oneshots!’ book :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Quarry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eddie sighed, looking across at the quarry. It always glowed at night, the reflection of the moon never failing to increase his love for the place. “They’re gazebos, Rich. Freaking gazebos.” He scoffed, tossing a pebble into the quarry. He watched as the pebble tore chunks out of the moon and rippled the stars while it skipped.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, <em> gazebos?” </em> Richie asks, throwing a rock into the water just for the splash.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, bullcrap. They don’t work.” Eddie explained as he looked down, searching for another rock to skip.</p><p> </p><p>Richie burst into laughter, echoing out into the quarry. “Do you mean placebos, dude?” He looked at Eddie with mockery in his oversized hazel eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s the difference?” Eddie had a rock in his palm (a smooth one, if he were in the forest, he’d keep it in his pocket just to feel the weight of it in his pocket and the feel against his fingertips), and his arm was comically paused in midair, his next throw interrupted by Richie’s correction.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie waited much, <em> much </em> longer than he would have for anybody else to stop laughing. A total of two whole minutes. Richie tried to speak again, but halfway through had burst into another fit of laughter. Eddie rolled his eyes and tossed the rock at his chest. “Beep, beep, Richie.” He muttered, trying to only show annoyance in his expression (and failing).</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” He said, his grin unchanged. “No, really, Eds, I am! A <em> placebo </em> is a kind of medicine that has no effects what-so-ever-“</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, like your jokes?” </p><p> </p><p>“Real funny, asswipe,” Richie said, furrowing his brow in mockery. “But by being told that the medicine will work, your body makes the medicine itself or something. A <em> gazebo,” </em> He paused, swiveling and then pointing behind him. “Is that wooden tent looking ass over there.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie nodded, not sure how else to respond.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you think your mom gave you a bunch of fakes? I know firsthand, the birth control she’s taking works just-“ Richie said, interrupted by yet another one of Eddie’s rocks.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know yet, dickwad,” Eddie scoffs, lowering his volume. “She just probably… didn’t want me to go. Like Dad.” His dad died when he was two, due to cancer. Which, therefore, was Sonia’s biggest concern. She didn’t even let Eddie wear bandaids with print on them, because she was afraid the ink would bleed into his skin and give him skin cancer. She made them leave restaurants if somebody across the room was smoking. Sonia Kaspbrak would blow her shit if she knew how close he was sitting to somebody who had an entire cigarette just an hour ago,</p><p> </p><p>“Still.” Richie said, watching Eddie’s rock fly. That one word was one of the very few times that Richie filled out a whole sentence with nothing but sincerity. Eddie remembered every other time he’d been like that- Stan’s bar mitzvah, Georgie’s funeral, and the time he taught Eddie to ride a bike. Richie’s bike was much too big for him, but Sonia certainly wasn’t going to provide one. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Good job, Eds!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Eddie smiled at the memory, at the fondness in Richie’s voice. He closed his eyes and felt warmth fall all over him, as one might do on the first summer’s day after a long, rainy spring.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s no more plunk-able rocks over here, hang on-“ Richie said, and with that as an incredibly pathetic warning, he jumped onto Eddie, his stomach on top of the boy’s ankles.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie’s hands flew up in shock, dislodging tiny pebbles from his palms. “What the hell Chee, dude, that isn’t freaking funny, get up, get your fat ass up, Richie, I swear to God<em> I have a cut on my knee and if you infect it with your nasty ass germs </em>then I <em> will </em>end your life, Richard Wen-“</p><p> </p><p>Richie hopped back off, sitting on his knees. His hands were full of rocks and his face was full of the grin Eddie had grown to rely on. “Hold out your hand.”</p><p> </p><p>“No way, you’ll see an opening or something and tackle me again. Either I’ll get infected or you’ll hit your head on these rocks. Head wounds bleed like a mother, Richie Wentworth, and I’ll have a hell of a tim-“ Eddie said, rattling off the possibilities that came to mind.</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Richie nodded, rolling his eyes and smiling lopsidedly. “You would. Now hold out your hand.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie looked at him skeptically, but held out his hand in a loose fist, with his palm facing up. Richie took his hand and dropped some smooth and weighted things (that were probably rocks) into his hand, and closed his fingertips over. His own hesitated there for a moment as Richie shoved out a “Chill out, Eds. I just grabbed some rocks for you because clearly I’m ass as skipping.”</p><p> </p><p>That moment made the summer’s warmth flush all over him again, starting at his fingertips and ending at his ears. Eddie regained himself quickly, however. “Yeah, you suck, dude. Like right before Bev left, you pelted her in the nose for fuck’s sakes! It’s almost like you wanted her to storm off; you were a whole one hundred and eighty degrees off!</p><p> </p><p>Richie laughed quickly. “Your mom was last night, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie glared at him. “That one was absolutely awful, please never consider being a comedian, you’d die out in the first ten months.”</p><p> </p><p>Richie turned to lay on his side to face Eddie (who was too preoccupied tossing stones to see). “What do you want to be when we get out of here, Eds?”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie scrunched up his face as he threw another rock (awfully). “Who says I’m leaving?”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know yet?”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought of it. I’ve been more preoccupied this summer with the rest of the losers- kept me more busy than I have been. Ever, really,” He stopped and turned to Richie. “Especially you, You’re a lot of work, Tozier.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mrs. K’s a lot of w-“</p><p> </p><p>“I <em> suppose,” </em> Eddie began loudly to cut him off, “That my job would have to play to my strong suits- <em> suit </em>. I don’t know, knowing what to be afraid of, how to avoid it? What would you want to be?”</p><p> </p><p>“Besides the full-time job that is giving Sonia Kaspbrak my sweet, sweet, loving, I guess just… out.” Richie said, looking him dead in his starlit eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Eddie sputtered, dropping one of the rocks he’d been given.</p><p> </p><p>“O-of Derry, you know?” </p><p> </p><p>“Right, Jesus Christ.” Eddie said under his breath, picking the rock back up and rearing his arm back.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell didja think I meant, Spaghetti?” He asked, his eyes still fully focused.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie tossed the rock as hard as he could, seeing as it was the last of the pile. It was white, with a black vein running through it. When he was little, he used to wish on them before chucking them into the water. “Of your Adderall, you’re out of control, Chee.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I am, Eds.” The wishing stone made an easy twenty feet, with an equal number of skims on the surface before finally sinking. Richie sat up, bumping the boys’ knees together. He grabbed another rock of his own, tossing it and watching it land about three feet away. “I suck.”</p><p> </p><p>“Must be why they call you Trashmouth, huh?” Eddie said, taking the brush of contact as permission to knee him teasingly.</p><p> </p><p>“I meant with the rocks, dude! Real funny though, Eds.” He glared at him, but couldn’t hold it. </p><p> </p><p>Eddie had never known Richie as one to stay angry for long.  Hell, he couldn’t frown at him for more than ten seconds without smiling again (Eddie counted once). “I learned from the best.”</p><p> </p><p>Richie knitted his brow. “Thought I was a ‘dying comedian’?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t forget the suckiest rock skipper!”</p><p> </p><p>“Richie Trashmouth Tozier- World’s Worst Comedian And Suckiest Rock Skipper.” Richie said in an announcer’s Voice, displaying the invisible title between two hands, spanning the stars in the air.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie nodded. “Your marketer is gonna have a hell of a time fitting that on your playbill.”</p><p> </p><p>“Playbill? Eds, do you think comedians have playbills?”</p><p> </p><p>“Pamphlets, whatever! Shut up.” He pouted, half-sarcastically.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you really think I have a chance as a comedian?” Richie asked, with a familiar undertone of fondness in his voice as he shifted backward to lay down.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie nodded, following suit. “I don’t see why not. Your mom jokes, swearing, retaliations, ADHD. You were practically built for it.” He said, counting off the traits on his casted hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah,” Richie said, looking at him. “I couldn’t <em> possibly </em> share my jokes about Sonia with the world- those are private between me and her. Once you see a woman’s-“</p><p> </p><p>“Shut. up. Beep, beep!” He huffed, desperate to change the subject. “What do you think is out there?” He asked instead, motioning to the stars.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh,” Richie said dumbly. “Stars. You’re seeing them too, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes (again). “No, like, around them. We can’t really see it because our eyes aren’t that magnified or whatever.” He explained.</p><p> </p><p>“I think it’s darkness more than magnification, Eds.” He said, just to argue.</p><p> </p><p>“No, not really. It’s interesting, though, I’m surprised that you can’t see Pluto from here with your glasses alone.” Eddie retorted, flicking the black, thick frames.</p><p> </p><p>Richie sighed, took off his glasses, and looked at him. “I can see stars without them, surprisingly enough, Eds.” He said, a touch of annoyance in his voice, along with something smoother, and warmer.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie looked at him, confused. “You aren’t even looking at the sky, idiot.” He placed his arm underneath his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t have to.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie sat for a moment, not knowing what to say back. Feeling entirely content in the silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, who signed your cast?” Richie asked, throwing the contentedness completely out of the window.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie realized that from his angle, he could see the bottom half of the <em> ‘LOSER’ </em> Greta Bowie had written. He jumped up and jerked his arm away. “Nobody.”</p><p> </p><p>Richie jumped right up after him, showing off a grin he only saw before trouble happened. Trouble he always failed to stop. “Who is it? How’d they get signing rights before us, huh?” Richie gasped. “Eddie Kaspbrak- are you <em> dating </em> someone? That means you’re finally a man!”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie’s ears went flaming hot. “No! That’s gross-and I’m plenty man already!” He said defensively, crossing his arms and effectively hiding the signature.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that what your mommy tells you?” Richie mocked in a high-pitched tone.</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Richie,” Eddie said, shooting a venomous look at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, Eds,” Richie said for the first time ever. “I’ll drop it.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie looked up. He didn’t believe him. “Really?” </p><p> </p><p>Richie nodded.</p><p> </p><p>Huh.</p><p> </p><p>“Psyche!” Richie almost tackled the poor boy, straddling his stomach and holding his cast arm above his head. He cocked his head to get a better look while Eddie tried to worm out underneath him.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell, Richie, what <em> the actual- </em> Ow, that hurt! You asshole, get off my arm! What if you broke it again, in another place, or even in the same place, break re-enforcement is <em> serious </em> stuff, dickwad, and-“</p><p> </p><p>Richie lifted his knee and clambered off of him. “Who wrote that?”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie sat up, sucking in a breath. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>Richie closed his mouth. Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen that before. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re concerned about who wrote that when you could have just re-enforced a goddamned break?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” He said quietly, again, something Eddie wasn’t used to.</p><p> </p><p>“It was Greta Bowie. Not that it even matters.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bitch.” Richie said simply, regardless of Bev’s countless rants as to what you couldn’t call women. <em> Bitch, whore, slut. Women aren’t lesser just because they have sex! Everybody has sex! </em> She’d said in particular one day in the clubhouse. Eddie just nodded, he had no real reason to disagree or anything. He just felt a bit uncomfortable saying anything on the matter at all. He wasn’t a woman; what <em> could </em> he say? He also hadn’t had sex yet, so he supposed he couldn’t say anything for that reason too. Which was reasonable, considering he was fourteen and didn’t really have any girl that came to mind when he thought of stuff like that.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been called worse. You have, too.” Eddie pointed out, knitting his brow.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but it’s there. For weeks. When they yell shit at us, we can at least ignore it. You can’t ignore your own damn arm.” Richie said with his anger growing as he spoke.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess.” Eddie shrugged, not really wanting to think about how irreversible the word was, especially given the permanence of the cast itself.</p><p> </p><p>“Give me your arm- I’ll fix it for you.” </p><p> </p><p>Eddie, more trusting this time around, gingerly put his arm into Richie’s palm. He held him by the wrist, twisting it just a bit so that he had a better angle. Richie uncapped a red sharpie with his teeth. “Where did you get that?” He asked, not remembering any previous appearances of the marker in question.</p><p> </p><p>Richie laughed. “Didn’t you see me tag all of the rocks before I handed them to you?” His speech had a slight lisp to it, the cap was still held between his lips.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie scowled immediately. “What? No! That’s like, vandalism! What if you got in trouble for it? What did you write? I hope it wasn’t your name, that would be really, really stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just ‘Trashmouth’.” He shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not bailing you out when you go to jail. You’re gonna have to sit there and deal with the consequences of vandalism.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m pretty sure you don’t go to jail because of vandalism, Eds.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie’s ears went hot, and he frowned. “Why would <em> I </em> know? I’m not a criminal, like you!”</p><p> </p><p>“Dude. I wrote on a couple of rocks at the bottom of a lake. They probably won’t ever even be seen again, let alone traced back to me.” He said incredulously, dropping Eddie’s arm. “Besides, I fixed your cast, like, a minute ago.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie inspected the change. “‘Lover’?”</p><p> </p><p>“Better than ‘Loser’.” Richie shrugged, hastily dropping Eddie’s hand once he realized he still had a hold on it.</p><p> </p><p>“Red means love.” Eddie mused quietly, his voice hardly a murmur.</p><p> </p><p>Richie snorts. “Yeah, so does ‘Lover’, stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie looked up at him with wide eyes, ignoring his comment.“Why ‘Lover’?”</p><p> </p><p>“‘Cause,” Richie said, shifting in his seat. “It’s the first thing I thought of. Don’t get all high and mighty, though, it’s only a letter off from ‘Loser’ and you can still see the ‘S’.” He said, tripping over an excuse.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie yawned. “I should go home; my mom’s gonna have a cow if I break curfew.” He said, reading his watch.</p><p> </p><p>“Your mom <em> is </em> a cow.” Richie said, rather predictably.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes and played along for once. “There’s not much I can do about that, is there?”</p><p> </p><p>“You could stay.” He suggested, looking surprisingly sheepish compared to his usual manner.</p><p> </p><p>“Here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie gnawed on his bottom lip, his glance cast aside in consideration. It was doable… And also, probably, one of the first times he’d broken curfew intentionally. “Fine.” Richie broke into a grin. Not that Eddie could see it in the dark, anyway. “But don’t be surprised if she shows up with the police in ten minutes.” He sat back down next to him, turning off the alarm on his watch he had set for five minutes from now, signalling curfew.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong?” Richie said slowly.</p><p> </p><p>“Just a bit nervous. My mom might throw a fit when she sees the dirt all over me. Or if she saw how close I’m sitting to water at night… Did you know you can get hypothermia if the water you’re in is just one degree below your body’s normal temperature?”</p><p> </p><p>In response, Richie stood up wordlessly.</p><p> </p><p>And ran straight into the water, neglecting to even take off his shoes. </p><p> </p><p>“Vamos, señor Kaspbrak! Nosotros zapatos de agua!” He said in that awful accent.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie paused. “We shoes of water?”</p><p> </p><p>Richie rolled his eyes. “Come get your shoes wet!”</p><p> </p><p>“That is nowhere even close to what you just said.” Eddie said, squaring his shoulders and crossing his arms. Richie shrugged carelessly. Eddie doubted his Spanish education consisted of more than merely passing an ongoing class. “Why don’t you take off your shoes?” He wrinkled his nose. “Or your socks?”</p><p> </p><p>“Any more requests?” Richie taunted, shaking his head at him with his hands on his hips.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn’t blushing something furious. He stepped forward to smack him, but almost fell. “Ah! Shit, Rich, I could have just gotten hurt! What if I fell and got, like, stuck in the rocks and drowned? Or what if I hit my head on a rock, passed out and drowned? Plus, there is <em> no way </em> that water is ninety eight degrees, I would hav-“</p><p> </p><p>“Dude.” Richie said, exasperated. “Just shut up and take your shoes off already.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie frowned, like he wanted to hit him but already knew about the repercussions involved. He sat down and methodically untied his shoelaces, slipping off his shoes and folding his socks inside them. He was halfway through cuffing up his jeans when Richie sent a wave of water his way. He stood doubled over, cackling, as Eddie repeated his worried monologue.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What if the rocks are sharp? What if they cut you, and infect you with the lake’s fish bacteria? The water’s too cold, you’ll get hypothermia, if not a cold. What if- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>His mom’s false warnings were interrupted by Richie’s loud laughter.</p><p> </p><p><em> Now, </em> He decided, <em> spending now with Richie is more important than a two-day head cold. </em></p><p> </p><p>Eddie’s left foot went in first, and <em> crap</em> if it wasn’t cold. The icy water fired off his nerves, sending chills up his back and causing him to shiver involuntarily. <em> How did Richie charge right in like that? </em></p><p> </p><p>“It’s easier over here,” Richie said, seeing the boy’s hesitation. “The rocks turn to sand.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie took painful steps, mildly expecting each one to be his downfall, but still pressing on. Eventually he reached Richie, and he was right. The ground was much easier over here, even soft. “Hi.” He said, for lack of a better entrance.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Eds.” Richie was smiling, pushing his glasses up his nose.</p><p> </p><p>“How are you on this-“ He shuddered out of cold. “Fine evening?”</p><p> </p><p>Richie slipped into his British Voice in an instant. “Why, I find it a bit soggy out ‘ere ‘or me own taste, I do.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie giggled. “That’s a newer one.”</p><p> </p><p>“What should I name him? Think, Eds, what’s the most impossibly British name you can possibly conceive?” He asked, grabbing him by the biceps.</p><p> </p><p>“Oliver… Crumpets?” He said hesitantly.</p><p> </p><p>His grin grew wider. “Yes! It’s perfect. Great job, Eddie Spaghetti!”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie scrunched his face up into a disapproving glare. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” He complained, crossing his arms.</p><p> </p><p>“That sucks,”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t-“</p><p> </p><p>“Just like your mom!”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie splashed him in an annoyed retaliation, nothing clever to say coming to mind. Upon seeing the mischievous flare in his eyes, he quickly regretted it. “Oh, shoot.”</p><p> </p><p> Richie kicked the water- his shoes considerably amplifying the volume of the wave- and absolutely drenched Eddie.</p><p> </p><p>“What the <em> hell? </em>” Eddie tried not to freak out, trying not to think about the whole essay that surfaced itself in his mind with the recent drenching. He impulsively tried to kick water back at him, but he didn’t even break the surface, just ending up almost falling on top of Richie, relying on his hands for stability.</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, Eds, good try at revenge.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, asshole!” Eddie said, shoving himself off of Richie.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re so cute, Eddie!” He grabbed a pinch of Eddie’s cheek, pulling it around between finger and thumb and repeating ‘cute, cute, cute!’”.</p><p> </p><p>“Ow! Stop, Richie! I told you I hate it when you do that!” He said, rubbing his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>“What would you <em> rather </em> me be doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“I would rather you be completely devastated with how I just totally destroyed you. In this scenario, though, I actually managed to splash the water at you, first.” </p><p> </p><p>Richie nodded, and then shook out his head and shoulders, not unlike a dog coming out of water. He mumbled something that sounded like “Sure, Spaghetti. Just gotta get into character first.”</p><p> </p><p>Before Eddie could even fully process what that meant, Richie took a huge gasping breath (Eddie’s hand instinctively dropped into his pocket for his inhaler at the sound) and plunged into the water. Eddie’s shock was followed by some bubbles and Richie’s glasses floating to the surface. He grabbed them, smudging the thick lenses as he did. He wasn’t sure why he took them so quickly, but he wasn’t very confident in his ability to cope without some part of Richie. “What the -Richie!” He screamed, worried. It had been just a few seconds, but to the best of his knowledge, he might as well be dead. Tears stung his eyes. He knew he was probably overreacting, but he couldn’t help it. Richie just disappeared- he might drown, or hit his head, and what could weaselly little Eddie do if he did?</p><p> </p><p>He tried looking down, but too many things got in the way. The dark, the sand moving under the water, his blurry, stinging eyes. He turned around as though that would suddenly reveal his location before Richie popped up right in front of him with a frightening yell. Now, Eddie had realized, he was just trying to scare him from behind. But he had done that well enough unintentionally. He gave up and threw his arms around his neck, wiping his couple of tears off with his shoulder. “That wasn’t funny… you’re just crazy…”</p><p> </p><p>Richie hadn’t moved yet out of shock, however it didn’t take him long to come to his senses and wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist. “Gee, Eds, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you<em> that </em>bad.”</p><p> </p><p>Concerns kept prioritizing themselves in Eddie’s head.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What if he scraped rust, or even algae down there? He’s wet and cold and covered in bacteria, and will get you sick. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>But the first priority thought, as he usually found it, was that <em> Richie’s fine. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Not that this is worse than my pinching your cheek or anything, but your nails are totally digging into the back of my neck and it hurts, Eds.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie took a sudden step away and felt his ears go hot. So hot that he felt sure that if you pushed his head down into the water, steam would pop up. “Oh, that’s not my nails. That was your glasses, the ones you forgot to give a crap about pulling your little… joke.” He handed them over, but Richie kept them in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t forget. I just knew you’d grab them.” He looked at Eddie with such a foreign, yet familiar look that Eddie almost managed to convince himself was the fault of the lack of glasses. Nevertheless, he felt something in response to that. Richie had relied on Eddie, instantaneously and without question.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you have your inhaler out?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>And Eddie was scared.</p><p> </p><p>He also was never once more sure of something, or rather some<em>one</em>, in his entire life.</p><p> </p><p>He shook the inhaler in his hand, listening to the rattle for a half a second that lasted an eternity. He swallowed. “For after this.” He said, standing up on his tiptoes and hovering just above Richie’s mouth, letting out a shaky, warm breath before Richie unfroze and sealed the gap.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t anything like what he expected. It wasn’t like kissing that girl’s cheek on Valentine’s day in the second grade, when she smelled like medicated lip balm and peach yogurt. This was infinitely, undoubtedly more.</p><p> </p><p>It was <em> wet, </em> first and foremost. They were both drenched, smelling of water. But it was warm. Eddie supposed that’s what he had been searching for this whole evening, every time he’s with Richie. Warmth from him when all he gets is the coldness of cough medicine from his mother.The warmth used his fingers to brush Eddie’s jaw before finding a place to pull him closer, staying and radiating on his jawline. Eddie’s hands fell where they comfortably had at first, one on his collarbones, his inhaler in his cast hand and resting on Richie’s neck. </p><p> </p><p>Eddie wishes he could stay there, in the warmth, like an eagle circling in the air. Unfortunately, it was hard for him to breathe with nothing in the way, let alone with Richie’s heated, chapped lips in the way. He pulled away and gasped, sucking on his inhaler until he felt his throat opening up.</p><p> </p><p>Richie’s hands jumped away, and he made a show of wiping off his glasses on his shirt (a redundant act, seeing as everything was sopping wet), then unfolding them and putting them back on. He smiled widely. “I don’t think you have the right to call me Trashmouth anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie snorts. “’Richie Trashmouth Tozier; World’s Worst Comedian And Rock Skipper. Have fun trying to fit good kisser anywhere in that. Actually, have fun fitting that stuff on paper.”</p><p><br/>
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